


Nothing but a Man

by Erik_What_The_Fuck



Category: Phantom of the Opera
Genre: Erik is trans, F/M, Phantom of the Opera - Freeform, alw verse, going mostly on my own ideas of Erik's backstory kay can fuck off, jk i love her, phantom retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:56:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erik_What_The_Fuck/pseuds/Erik_What_The_Fuck
Summary: A retelling of the ALW musical where Erik is a trans man. Probably going to have some leroux elements in there too





	1. Chapter 1

Erik stalked the halls of the opera house, staring down at the people below him. They were all so funny, with their fancy clothes and precious jewels. He liked them, liked watching the normal people down below. He could've been like them someday, if only he'd been born normal.  
Normal.  
Dear god, how he hated that word. Normalacy was what he'd strived for all his life. He learned how to walk, talk, look like a normal gentleman. But he coukd never integrate into society. He was too terrible, too deformed. He traced the curves on his mask. The cold porcelain against his skin reminded him of all he could never be. Ah, well, the opera had started. No time to mope.  
He wandered to his private box and began to watch. As always, it fell short of his exacting demands.  
And then a chorus girl sang a small aria.  
And he stopped. And he stared.  
Her voice was emotive, balanced and beautiful. It seemed to captivate the audience, actually weaving them into the story. Sure, it wasn't perfect, and there were parts that made Erik want to cover his ears. But he saw potential.  
And when she looked up at box 5, when he got to see her face....  
Erik fell hopelessly in love


	2. Chapter 2

Erik ran through the secret passageways he'd built in the opera house, trying to find the girl's dressing room. He needed to meet her, speak to her, congragulate her on her performance. Then, perhaps he could offer her assistance. Teach her how to perfect her voice. And maybe...just maybe, he could win her heart.  
If he could only figure out where the bloody dressing room was!  
He slumped against a wall, panting. He shouldn't have run so much. It was already hard to breathe, given his bad habit of binding too tight. Now, he felt like he wanted to pass out. He heaved and panted, trying to catch enough breath. He stared out the two way mirror he'd installed, trying to distract himself from the pain in his lungs. It was a sweet little room, decorated with class and femininity. He smiled softly. It reminded him a bit of his bedroom when he was a child.  
Then, the door opened. And he saw her. He'd discovered her dressing room by complete accident.  
He stood up a bit straighter, trying to stop his panting. And he watched.  
She slipped on a delicate robe over her costume and sat down at her vanity. She began brushing her long brown waves, saying a prayer as she went.  
"Oh, father, please send me the angel of music like you promised. It's been oh so long and I've been wondering if he's ever going to come. Please, father, send him to me."  
Erik grinned. This was perfect! He stepped forward until his nose was almost touching the glass.  
"You need wait no longer, child." he said, taking pains not to frighten her. "Your father has heard your prayer and sent me."  
The girl gave a little gasp and stood, looking all around.  
"Oh, angel! Where are you?"  
"I am invisible, young one, but I will show myself when the time is right."  
She gave a little nod. "I didn't know father would send a woman to be my angel," she whispered.  
Erik barely stifled a yelp. A woman?! Curse his soprano voice!  
"No, mademoiselle," he began, "I am a man, but the good Lord has gifted me with a voice much like your own in order that I can teach you better."  
He hoped to whatever powers there were above that the lie would fool her. There was a moment of silence as the girl pondered what she'd heard. To Erik, it seemed like hours.  
Finally, she gave a little nod.  
"I understand," she said softly. Erik let out the breath he'd been holding.  
"Good. Now, my dear, you must understand how important you are, having such a special angel."  
A soft blush colored the girl's cheeks. Clearly, she wasn't used to flattery. Erik smiled, then continued.  
"Your father has great plans for you. You will be a great singer someday, if you follow my instructions."  
"I will do all you command, maestro."  
Erik grinned even more. This was perfect.  
"Excellent. Now, I have to leave, but I shall speak to you tomorrow. Goodbye, my dear."  
"Goodbye, angel."  
Erik began to walk away, grinning from ear to ear. If things went this well each time, he would have her in his arms oh so soon. He could hardly wait!  
Now, to figure out her name.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik came daily to the girl's dressing room, teaching her how to sing and teaching himself to love. Christine, for that was the girl's name, seemed to enjoy chattering with him for hours after her lesson was finished, and he loved it.   
"Christine, what is your favorite flower?" he asked abruptly.   
"Oh! A rose, Angel."  
From that day on he always brought her a single rose each lesson.   
Soon enough, he'd found out all her likes and dislikes, heard all her childhood memories, and even learned some of her deepest secrets. Everything she told him only increased his love. Perhaps he should tell her a bit about himself in return.   
"Miss Daaé?"  
"Yes, Angel?"  
"I wish to tell you my name."  
Christine sat up a little straighter and tilted her head towards the sky. She knew an angel's name was a great secret, and so wanted to give her 'angel' the deepest reverence. Erik smiled at her innocence, and spoke."  
"My name is Erik, mademoiselle."  
"Erik..." she repeated breathlessly, the name almost sounding like a prayer. Erik's breath hitched. The way she said his name...oh, it was beautiful.   
"Yes, Christine. I am Erik." And I love you...oh, how he wanted to add that last part. But he held back, terrified that she could not love one such as him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just watched Shrek the musical and I was wondering...how about a Shrek! PoTO AU? It could work, right???  
> anyways...

Months of practice and careful tutoring later and Christine was finally ready to sing onstage. Erik beamed with pride hearing her sing. She had gone from good to positively angelic. Paris would love her. They would throw flowers at her feet and crowd around her dressing room. He couldn't wait to see her grin when she realized she was born to be a primadonna. 

Unfortunately, La Carlotta was still the leading soprano, and it didn't look like she'd be giving up her position anytime soon. So, until Erik did anything about it, her squak would continue to assault his ears. 

There was also the buisness of new management. The current manager, one of the few who knew the true nature of the Opera Ghost, had informed Erik that he had plans to retire to Australia of all places. But he assured Erik that there was a suitable replacement. Suitable replacement indeed! The new managers were tone deaf idiots who made their money selling junk! Erik wanted to clutch his heart and die on the spot when he heard the news. His poor, poor Palais Garnier. 

But soon, the great stage of the Opera House would hear real music again. Every seat would be filled, and Erik would swell with pride as he watched his student sing. He knew she would conquer the stage as easily as she had conquered his heart. 

Oh, what was that god awful noise? Erik walked towards the sound until he reached a rafter atop the stage. Of course. Carlotta was singing, if you could even call it that. She was butchering Hannibal, which just so happened to be one of Erik's favorite operas. He had to act soon. But who were those two men in the ridiculous clothes near her? He squinted a bit, trying to think. Of course! They must be the new managers and....oh dear. They looked completely enraptured by Carlotta's shrieks. Things were more hopeless than he thought. 

So he did the logical thing, and let part of a set fly down to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving you guys! Gonna try and do two chapters today because I didn't do one yesterday. Please give me feedback I live for it

Sharp screams were heard down below as the backdrop fell to the floor. Panic gripped the stage, as chorus girls and managers alike ran around the stage.   
"He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!" Meg screamed, only adding to the general commotion. Even Charles Buquet, who had been called to answer for the disaster, said there must be a ghost in the rafters. Erik grinned. His actions had the perfect result, as Carlotta was now threatening her resignation. The managers were trying their best to console her, but it only inflamed her more. She was screaming by now. Erik covered his ears. Good lord, that woman was loud. Finally, she turned and left the stage, saying she would not comd back until the ghost was stopped.  
Well, good luck with that one.   
The managers wrung their hands. Oh, what would they do? The show would be a disaster.   
Then a beautiful chorus girl was pulled out of the commotion. Erik smiled fondly down at her. Christine Daaé, his angel of music, would captivate the crowd. His spirit was inside her, giving her music passion and depth. And so, the pianist bwgan to play, and Erik closed his eyes, waiting.   
But the poor girl seemed to have developed stage fright. She could hardly speak, let alone sing. Erik frowned. This was not the way it was supposed to go.   
"Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves," one of the managers complained, taking a drink of whiskey. Erik agreed with him. Christine's shyness infected the song. It was not a love song full of bittersweet power anymore. Instead, it sounded like a turtle crawling back into its shell.   
So Erik, once again, took matters into his own hands.   
He sung a soft melody to Christine, barely loud enough to hear. In his song he praised her, reminded her that she was born for this. And as the notes washed over Christine, she seemed to gain a new strength. Soon, Erik's melody was drowned out by her song. She sang with all the grace and magic Erik knew she posessed, entrancing everyone around. Too soon, she finished, and everyone was quiet, trying to understand the art they had just heard. Then, they burst into applause and cheers. Christine blushed and looked up at the heavens, silently thanking her angel.   
And he was up in the rafters, grinning and applauding her job well done.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just fluff and Erik going overboard with the flowers. That's all

The firs thing Christine noticed when she walked into her dressing room were the roses.   
Hundreds of roses were piled on and around her vanity. They were every single color and size a rose could be. Christine had no idea how they got into her room so fast. It could only be the work of an angel. She smiled brightly, grabbing a bunch and smelling them. Her angel must be so pleased, giving her a gift like that!   
Behind the mirror, Erik was slumped against a wall, panting. Rose petals covered his clothes and were even in his hair. He was totally worn out from racing all those flowers to her dressing room, and his binder constricted him. That thing was like an annaconda. No matter. Christine was happy, and that was all that mattered. He looked up and watched her arrange the flowers in her room and in her hair. She looked like a nymph when she was done, her brown curls covered in white flowers.   
"Thank you, angel!" She chirped, smelling a pink rose. Erik smiled.   
"You are so welcome, my dear. Your performance was wonderful. I cannot wait to see what you will do in front of an audience."  
Christine kept grinning happily.   
"I love you, Angel!" she blurted. She slapped her hands over her mouth immedeately afterwards, turning as red as some of the roses. Erik gasped, his eyes going wide. Did she...did she really just say that? Tears came to his eyes, and he stared at the ground.   
"I love you too, Christine Daaé."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'm so sorry it took this long for me to get a new chapter up. Also, I'm so hapy that you guys enjoy it so much! I never thought anyone would read this and your kudos, comments, and bolkmarks mean the world to me. Bless you.

Erik was attempting to give Christine her voice lesson. She needed so much practice, and there were so many songs to learn, but he was constantly distracted by her perfection. He kept replaying the way she'd said she loved him in his mind. He'd memorized exactly how she'd looked, and his heart was soaring in the clouds. This was the woman of his dreams, and she loved him!  
"Angel, are you still there?"  
It was with a start that Erik realized he'd completely zoned out.   
"Yes, miss Daaé, I'm still here. Forgive me, I am a bit distracted."  
Christine frowned. "What's distracting you, Angel? Is it me?"  
Erik blushed. Of course it was her, she was the only thing he could ever think about. But it's not like he could just say that!   
"No, Christine. I was just thinking, that's all."   
Satisfied with this answer, Christine continued her lesson.

The hours passed, and soon Christine realized she needed to go home.   
"Angel, I must leave," she murrmured.   
"Yes, Christine, I understand."  
Christine nodded and turned to leave.   
"Christine!"  
She stopped.   
"Yes, Angel?"  
Erik choked. His throat was dry, his hands were sweaty, and his heart was racing.   
"I...I....I love you too."  
Christine smiled.   
"I'm glad the one I love like a father feels the same way."

What?

Erik slumped against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears. A father....she had no romantic interest in him whatsoever. He let out a choked sob and covered his face with his hands. He shouldn't have hoped...

But maybe, oh maybe if she saw him not as an angel, but as a man....Yes! He would reveal himself to her, as a creature with flesh, blood, and soul. Then she would love him! And as a lover, not just as a father. It would be perfect!

So long as she did not touch the mask


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I know it has been a long time since I've updated but I hope my inclusion of Daroga makes up for it :) Love y'all

Erik slumped down on the couch in his lair. His best and only friend Nadir Khan was sitting next to him, drinking a cup of tea.   
"So, tell me, what has you in this terrible mood,, Erik?" he asked. "Did Carlotta come back?"  
"No," Erik murmurred dejectedly. "She said she loves me..."  
Nadir's eyes widened. "Christine said it again?! Why, that's wonderful!"  
"That's not all, Daroga. She loves me, but not like a suitor. Like a father'."  
"Oh...."  
Erik gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, there's only one thing left to do now..."  
"And that is?"  
Erik gave a frightening grin. "I'll reveal myself to her, make it so that she cannot see another man. That way, she'll be sure to love me!"  
"Or hate you..."  
"Eh?"  
Daroga turned to look at Erik and raised an eyebrow.   
"Erik, how would you feel if someone did that to you?"  
Erik was silent. Daroga leaned back, satisfied.   
"Then how is she supposed to want me?" Erik whispered.   
"Court her, sing to her, show her your home. Be a gentleman. And lots of flowers."  
"I can't do any more flowers, Nadir. I'm in debt to every florist in paris."  
Nadie chuckled. "Well, do the other things then."  
"Anything else?"  
Nadir paused for a moment before reaching out to remove Erik's mask. The raised flesh and swollen lips that greeted him were one of the most awful things Nadir had ever seen. But they just served to make Erik more, well, Erik. In fact, Nadir couldn't imagine his friend without the deformity. And once you got used to it, it was bizzarely attractive.   
"Show her your face." Daroga said softly. "Show her your face."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should write a Christmas fic sometime....

The day of Christine's debut arrived. Erik watched from the rafters. Her performance was, as always, flawless. Unfortunately, he couldn't see her very well, thanks to those blasted idiots in box 5!  
Intermission came, and he decided to see who exactly had sat in his seat. After the group occupying the box left, presumably to socialize and grab refreshments, Erik stalked over. He grinned when he entered. The people had left all their things, and it would be more than easy to find out who they were. 

Good heavens! It was the patron and his younger brother! 

Footsteps approached, and Erik vanished just in time. Damn! He couldn't kill the patron! 

Then came Christine's solo. Her voice tantalized Erik, brought him calm and ecstacy... 

What in the world was that?!

The boy in Erik's box was singing! Rather loudly, too. Hadn't he heard of manners? His brother was trying his best to shush him, but the boy was far too excited. 

"Can it be?! Can it be Christine?!"  
Then the boy did the unthinkable. He stood and began to clap.

Right in the middle of Christine's solo!

Patron or not, Erik would see that boy hanged.


	10. Chapter 10

The show was over. Christine had just arrived in her dressing room.   
"Brava...brava...bravisima!" Erik sang from his place behind the mirror. Christine grinned. Just then, Meg Giry ran into the room, breathlessly congragulating her friend. Erik smiled. He rather liked Meg. She was sweet and gentle, and an excellent dancer. Her love for Christine Daaé was quite endearing. The two girls chattered for a few moments. Their speech was so hurried and full of half sentences Erik could only understand a few words. But he knew they were talking about him. Or rather, the Angel of Music. Then Meg was called away by her mother, once again leaving Erik and Christine alone. 

"Christine, you were—"

The door flew open, revealing the patron's little brother. The sight of him made Erik's blood boil. Who did he think he was, intruding on Christine's dressing room without knocking?! She could've been changing!! 

"Where is your red scarf, Miss Daaé?" The boy began, strolling over to her. "I hope you have it, after all the trouble I went through. I was only 14 and soaked to the skin!"   
At that, Christine stood, beaming. "Oh, Raoul, it is you!" She flew into his arms for a tight embrace.

Erik, meanwhile, was completely perplexed. What? They'd met? She was happy to see him??? What was the world coming to? 

He was snapped out if his daze by Raoul (of all things!) asking Christine to dinner. Now this would not do! Erik needed to act fast. So the minute the boy stepped out of the room, Erik put his plan into motion.

"Insolent boy! Slave of Fasion!" seriously, what on earth was he wearing? "Basking in your glory!"

Christine turned pale.   
"Forgive me, Angel, my soul was weak! I'm so sorry!"   
The girl seemed close to tears, and Erik's heart wanted to break.   
"Hush, child. No need to be afraid. Look in the mirror, and you shall see me."

Christine turned and gasped.   
"Angel!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry about how long it took me to get back into thus!!! Blame Dan and Phil, bc I've been marathoning them instead of writing

The mirror slowly moved on its hinges, and fog spilled out of the darkened corridor Erik was standing in. He could almost hear the dramatic organ solo. Christine stood agape, taking in the spectacle. Erik was, of course, dressed to the nines, and his embellished cape flowed dramatically around him. He thought he looked rather imposing and godlike with the fog and all. So he just stood, waiting for Christine to compose herself.   
"Angel you...you..." Christine started.  
"What is it, my dear?"  
"Well....you're shorter than I expected."  
Erik's mouth dropped open, flabbergasted. Christine giggled.  
"I'm sorry, angel. It's just the first thing I noticed."  
Erik blinked. THAT'S what she'd noticed?! Not the fog or his cool cape?!   
"Well, uh...I see." Flustered, hhe grabbed her hand, pulling her into the passageway. She laughed and followed.   
"Oh, Erik, I didn't mean to embarrass you."  
"It's quite alright, my dear," Erik said, far calmer now that a few moments had passed.   
"I'm glad it's al—"   
Erik turned to see what had taken her breath away. Oh...the catacombs...

It was true the opera house catacombs were beautiful in their own right. But now, with the candles Erik had lit creating reflections that danced on the dark water, they looked otherwordly. Erik had seen the same sight so many times he completely forgot how tantalizing the picture was to someone who'd never seen it before.

"Monsieur Erik...that is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Cheistine whispered, her eyes set on the scene. Erik smiled.  
"You, miss Daaé, are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"  
The birl blushed and turned her head, not replying to the compliment. Erik cursed himself. He'd stepped to far. Without a word, he ushered her into the gondola waiting for them on the shores of the lake. He rowed through the black water, watching the different ways the candles lit up Christine's face. No doubt about it, she was perfect in every light. He could kiss her, oh god how he wanted to.  
But he could not. For she was beautiful. And he was ugly. And kissing meant showing your face, your lips. No matter what Nadir had advised, that was something Erik would not do


	12. Chapter 12

The little gondola swam through the waters of the opera house sewers until it bumoed against a little beach in the middle of the lake. Erik stepped out and tied it to a post before offering his hand to Christine. She smiled and took it, letting him guide her onto dry land. The world around her was dark, the light from the candles barely making its way to the beach. But her guide seemed to know where he was going. Well, he was an andel, after all. Perhaps an angel could see better in the dark than a human could.

Erik led his love across the beach. He was tracing the path to his house by memory only, as he was totally blind in the shadows around him. Soon, he reached out in front of him and felt wood. Yes! This was his house. He pushed the door open, leading Christine into a small room. A few moments later and the room was filled with candlelight. Thank God he hadn't misplaced those matches. 

Christine stood still for a moment, taking the room in around her. Rich furniture and rugs more expensive than anything she could dream of owning decorated the room. She stepped forwards and let her hand graze the sofa, as if she was afraid she'd ruin it. Erik gave a small smile.  
"My dear, you really don't need to worry. I do not care what happens to the furniture as long as you are comfortable."   
Christine nodded gratefully.   
"Oh, thank you, Angel."  
Erik wandered around the room, his eyes never once leaving Christine.  
"My dear, would you like me to sing for you?"  
"Oh, yes angel, please!" She enthused. Erik took her hand and opened his mouth, singing an unearthly melody Christine was sure she'd never heard before.  
"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation...."  
Christine closed her eyes and let the music overtake her. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she was certain she felt Erik carressing her far more intimately than an angel ever woukd. But she didn't care. She was lost in the music.

So lost, in fact, that when Erik stopped singing, she fainted.


	13. Chapter 13

Oh no.  
That was the first thought Erik had when Christine fainted.   
A million things shot through his brain. Was she suck? Dehydrated? Did she have a heart attack? Did she see a rat? Was the last note in the song Erik sang too high and it knocked her out?  
Whatever the case, Erik grabbed her as she was falling, managing to keep her from hitting her head against the ground. He picked her up, gasping and almost falling when he had her in his hands. Sopranos were surprisingly heavy, and he was not a very muscular person. Still, he managed to carry her to a small bed in the corner, covering her with his cape. There. She would be alright for now. 

As Erik waited for Christine to awaken, he began composing on his organ. Dissonant chords and strange notes and accidentals formed most of his composition. He was creating an opera, a true work of art, he believed. No one else would probably think that, but hey, it was his opera. His.   
He was too wrapped up in his work to notice soft footsteps behind him, even a gentle caress on the side of his face without the mask.   
But not wrapped up enough to notice the mask being peeled off.  
He screamed, jumping up from his seat and holding his face with his hand. She knew what he was under the mask. Hideous. She would never love him now


End file.
